


sleep well

by ryarya (ayrom)



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayrom/pseuds/ryarya
Summary: A snippet of their daily life from Satoshi’s perspective.
Relationships: Ninomiya Kazunari/Ohno Satoshi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	sleep well

**Author's Note:**

> can be read as romantic or platonic, really
> 
> alternative title: it’s perfectly acceptable to nap for 9 hours straight because i said so
> 
> edit 200521 yikes this suddenly seems really ooc to me so uh... sorry from the future me

Satoshi wakes up from a pleasant dream of chocolate-flavoured clouds and a rather violent game of musical chairs.

Stretching his limbs blearily on Nino’s soft bed, he’s sure he’s knocked a throw pillow off. He doesn’t bother to make the bed when he gets up; he puts on the guest slippers and treads towards the living room.

As expected, Nino is hunched over on the couch, holding onto his WiiU controller. He can’t really differentiate between the Wii and WiiU and the Switch like Nino can, so he doesn’t say anything about it and slumps onto the couch. Absorbing all of Nino’s warmth. Like a leech, but with temperature and not blood.

“Had a nice nap?” Nino asks, eyes focused on the screen. He’s pressing a button that makes certain colours splatter across the in-game world, and there’s too much going on for Satoshi to understand what’s happening.

But that’s okay, since Nino has lots of other games that he can’t keep up with, either. If there’s one game Satoshi particularly likes from Nino’s collection, though, it’d be Minecraft. The bunnies are cute and he gets to build a house in it. 

“You left me,” Satoshi says after he’s done reminiscing about the cake he had made in a game. He scratches his eyebrow. Nino doesn’t say anything after that.

A few moments later, he’s much more focused on the way his tummy grumbles. He peels himself away from Nino’s side, wearing Nino’s slippers intentionally as he pads towards the kitchen, the catchy original soundtrack of the game reverberating in the room and his mind.

Satoshi pries open the top cupboards in curiosity and presses them closed when nothing particularly catches his interest. The last unopened cupboard reveals an untouched box of cereal; the cartoon-y toucan mascot that reminds him of Aiba-chan on the box pulls him in. He uses up every last drop of milk in Nino’s fridge unapologetically—the best-by date was nearing anyways.

He walks back to the couch with a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, seating himself on the carpet next to Nino’s legs. The TV screen shows a paused interface, and Satoshi lets himself ponder for a moment about why Nino had paused it.

“Really, Oh-chan?” Nino asks, and this time, he’s finally looking at Satoshi. He jabs at Satoshi’s ribcage with his toes. Satoshi doesn’t budge. “Sometimes, I don’t understand how your brain works. Who eats Froot Loops at 11AM?”

Had his nap been that long? Satoshi had no idea.

He faintly remembers fragments of his dream over the crunch of sugary goodness in his mouth: Sho-kun soaring high into an endless blue, all just for the chocolaty cloud tempting the land-ridden Satoshi, and Matsujun hauling a fire extinguisher over a nameless kouhai’s head in attempt to put them in a concussion so he could claim the last chair.

“I dunno,” Satoshi says, thinking of how triumphant Matsujun looked as his poor kouhai was unconscious on the set. He’s starting to think he remembers everything too clearly for it to be a dream. Unsure, he changes the topic and asks Nino, “Hey, has Jun-kun ever put someone in the hospital?”

Nino stares at him, bug-eyed, like he’s insane.

“N… Not to my knowledge? If he did, it’d probably be a scandal, you know,” Nino says, now blinking. There’s a cute tuft of hair sticking out from his head that Satoshi wants to pat down.

Satoshi purses his lips together and sets the now-empty bowl on the coffee table. “Aw. Shame.” He rests his head on Nino’s thigh, looping his arm between the calf and couch to hug Nino’s leg. Now he’s really like a leech.

“I don’t really get how the tiny people in your head operate your brain,” Nino huffs, using his stubby fingers to pet Satoshi’s hair. Or to try to communicate with the tiny people in his head.

He doesn’t really know what else to say, so Satoshi just makes a noise in reply. Nino’s fingers are massaging his scalp now, and Satoshi feels the tendrils of sleepiness curling up around his bones once more.

Humming the instrumentals for one of their songs, Nino says, “Sleep well, Ojii-chan.”

And just like that, Satoshi dozes off, the bright colours of the game melting like watercolour dripping in his vision and with the insistent lull of the funky original soundtrack on his mind.

~

The next time, he dreams of the crunchy, partially melted rice at the bottom of the rice cooker and wakes up on the floor with Nino asleep on the couch.

“Sleep well, Nino,” Satoshi says.

He presses his face back down on the cool floor and goes back to his nap.


End file.
